


Cocoon

by zenkitty555



Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst and Feels, Feels, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Partners to Lovers, Post-Doctor Strange (2016), Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-01
Updated: 2018-02-01
Packaged: 2019-03-12 06:55:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13542078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zenkitty555/pseuds/zenkitty555
Summary: After everything that happens, Stephen discovers that sometimes the darkness is much better than the light and that the unsaid is more comforting than declarations.





	Cocoon

**Author's Note:**

> A short ficlet I needed to write.

There was a break in what they were doing, and Stephen’s body frozen in place as he looked at the spot on the wall. It wasn't blood. Whatever that stain was, it wasn’t blood. Even if the fear in his heart started to grow, he had to keep reminding himself of the fact that this was not a nightmare, or an alternate reality, or memories of that day not so long ago in the streets of New York.

Stephen's attention snapped back into his body once he felt a warm hand on his bare leg and a chill ran over him. His mouth parted slightly when he look down at his partner; a pair of concerned eyes meeting his.

“Stephen,” Wong urged, “Are you okay?”

Stephen nodded slowly.

“Fine,” he said, his mouth drier than before.

“We can stop, or if you're tired, I can do this.”

He wasn’t tired, and he didn't want to stop. He didn't want to stop forgetting himself and forgetting what they had been through.

Slowly, his legs started working again as he leaned forward for a kiss; his eyes nearly closed as his hips began to find their rhythm once again. But where there was frustrated need earlier, he found it replaced with a coolness in the pit of his stomach that wasn’t there when they began. The whole mood in the room shifted for the evening. What once felt right when they first started, suddenly felt wrong; emotional pain instead of pleasure.

When Wong turned his head away, gently pressing the tips of his fingers into Stephen's legs a little harder, Stephen stopped. It was a signal from his partner to him.

“Forget about it. It’s fine.”

Hands nudged Stephen off as gently as they could without being ineffective, and he moved to the side. He knew it too, try as he may to ignore it. The only concession to everything that had happened in the past few minutes were the strong arms wrapped around him to pull him close. There was something safe and warm about being cocooned in them.

His mind drifted back to familar questions. How many nights had they spent like this? How many days had he woken up to pillowcases dampened by tears?

The fight against Thanos had taken a toll on them, but unlike the others, they only had each other. That night when Stephen broke down in his strained voice telling Wong about his crippling feelings of isolation and insomnia changed them. He was still unsure if it was for better or for worse.

They decided to start this, whatever this was, because they needed to confirm with one another that it was possible to feel things outside of misery and the heightened pressures of their duties to protect their reality and the realities of other realms as well. Stephen couldn’t forget that night where he practically crawled into Wong's lap needing to be touched, begging not to be ignored, and Wong’s quiet response - an almost acquiescence, followed by calculated, firm movements. He could never have predicted what would have followed, expecting it to be a fleeting encounter.

All that time before that first night he had spent thinking Wong loathed him or merely tolerated him was a lie. Maybe. He wasn’t sure of the truth so much now. In retrospect he didn't actually care.

Unlike before, there were very few objections these days, except when he pushed himself too much. The only time protests happened was when desire became borderline mania for him. Just like now, sometimes Wong told him they needed to stop for a moment and breathe. Things didn’t work and that was fine according to Wong’s tone.

As they laid there, Wong holding him, they breathed even, easy breaths. His mind calmed itself and focused on the nose pressed into his shoulder. It focused on the mouth pressed against his skin with its feather touch.

Stephen's hands covered Wong's as they stayed like that.

“Will you be okay?” Wong asked, softly.

“We didn’t have to stop,” Stephen replied with a bit of whine to his voice.

There was no answer at first. It wasn't something his partner wanted to talk about.

“Yes we did. You were somewhere else while I was here. It’s fine, Stephen. These things happen.”

Stephen's throat became tight, his heart heavier than before, but he was grateful all the same. Wong could have gotten up and left, or continued without concern for Stephen's mental state. Then again, Wong was the more sensible of the two.

“Yea, things happen.”

They stayed like that for some time, sharing warmth between them in the chilly room. Wong eventually pulled the covers over them closer, but sleep didn’t come. Neither of them would get any rest, and he could feel the embarrassment bubbling up from within him. It wasn’t something that normally happened.

“It was silly,” Stephen paused before continuing, “It’s passed now.”

“You can lie to yourself, but you can’t lie to me.”

Shifting and nudging Stephen under him, Wong looked him in the eyes. It felt as though Wong was looking into his soul, and he recognized it was probably true by this point. They had grown to know one each other in ways he had not shown another for a very long time, and nearly all of it had been wordless. The little stories they did share only deepened this understanding they had come to develop.

“Sometimes you kill me,” Wong grumbled.

Wong shifted Stephen to a position that was neither comfortable nor uncomfortable. There was a certain pressure to the way that  their bodies entangled, making it felt better than before with Stephen on top. It felt freeing like this.

Stephen searched Wong’s face for signs. Often Wong’s actions did one thing, but his face often did another. This time soft sympathy laid in his expression, telling him Wong still worried, even if his hands traveled lower. Stephen hoped that he wasn’t acting out of pity, giving into Stephen’s verbal hints and small gestures of continuing what they started. He couldn’t be sure and he couldn’t help but also wonder was why it was it all so messy. The clearer his tasks were, the messier his feelings got. Although touches of this were not uncommon in his youth, he thought he had put it behind him after he came to Kamar-Taj.

A part of this though he could have to all to himself without guilt. He could have the feelings at the bottom of all the others: a sense of safety and love that grew each day they were together. He could try to keep it pure even through all the other complications and everything else trying to drown it.

Finally, after his body allowed him release, and Wong finished with him, he couldn't bear to leave the comfort of it all. Once again wrapped up in the safety of warm arms, he protested either one of them moving from their blissful embrace.

“I don’t really know what this is, but I am thankful you're here,” Stephen said quietly.

His eyes were closed and forehead pressed into Wong’s bare skin. Wong brought his hand up to cradle Stephen’s head, his fingers running through his hair.

“We don’t have to put words to it.”

Of course, Wong would say something to that effect and in such a monotonous manner. All the same, it stabilized his feelings more. The clawing emotions that had been bubbling in him melted away into nothing.

Eventually, they untangled themselves and cleaned up before settling back into the embrace they had been in previously. They stayed like that until sleep came, but the morning broke before he slept enough to make it satisfying.

Waking always made him realize how he wanted more time to stay in the safe warmth of the night. Stephen’s hand reached over to find nothingness; the sheet cold with the blanket tucked around the lower part of his torso. It was something he knew that Wong had done, as he never did such things on his own in his sleep.

As he sat up in his bed and rubbed his eyes, he felt disappointed. It always felt like a dream and with the mornings the dream was gone. His half hazy state made it more difficult to find a reason to truly start his day.

He sighed as he dragged his body from under the covers and off of the bed. The only comfort was to remind himself that after some time passes, he’d be able to return to the cocoon of the night and Wong's embrace. Everything would be a little easier in due course.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kuddos are much appreciated. ♡


End file.
